


Morning Routine

by westernsunset



Category: Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 10:53:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16952667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westernsunset/pseuds/westernsunset
Summary: A typical morning for Neal and Alanna, written for Fief Goldenlake's wishing tree and the incomparable deveilinthedetails!





	Morning Routine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [devilinthedetails](https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilinthedetails/gifts).



“Rise and shine squire!”

Neal suppressed a groan, knowing as he did that any complaints would just result in an extra ten or fifteen minutes of training.

“Your voice is more beautiful than any palace bells, my illustrious knight master,” Neal mumbled under his breath.

“What was that?” Alanna asked.

“Just that you’ll make a morning person of me yet,” Neal said, wiggling out of his bedroll and putting on his shoes.

“No no, you won’t need those today,” Alanna said. Neal noticed she herself was barefoot as well. “Don’t look at me like that,” she said. Neal hadn’t even realized he was pulling a face that was a mixture of fear and confusion until Alanna said something.

“We’re going to work on your hand to hand combat today. I’m no Shang master, but I’ll teach you what I know, and once you’ve mastered that, you’ll be well-prepared in a fight with anyone but a Shang master.”

Neal nodded, standing in front of her. He was surprised, as he was every couple of days, at how he was nearly a head taller than his knight master. He was constantly forgetting, it was something in the way she carried herself. 

“Now, show me how you’d make a fist to strike,” she commanded. Neal clenched his hand and Alanna winced. “You’ll break your hand if you hit like that. Did Eda teach you nothing? You can’t put your thumb inside your hand.”

As she criticized, she moved around Neal like a sparrow, nudging his knees deeper, adjusting his hand, squaring his shoulders. “Good, you see that stance? That’s how you should stand when someone has you prepare to strike. Understand?”

Neal nodded, taking note of the new stance. He remembered this from what the Shangs taught, but it had been months and his body had forgotten.

“Now strike the tree.”

“I’m sorry?” Neal said.

“Use the fist to strike the tree,” Alanna said, speaking a little slower than Neal thought was necessary.

Neal hit the tree lightly.

Alanna fixed him with a glare. “Really. That’s how you’d hit an enemy? My goodness, you better hope your enemy is a gossamer wind because that’s the only thing that would be intimidated by that punch.”

Neal gritted his teeth and hit again, a little harder this time. “Squire, if you break your fingers, I’ll reset them, now put some muscle behind that punch!” Alanna seemed to be enjoying this.

Frustrated (and more than a little nervous) Neal hit as hard as he could. It certainly hurt, but he could tell he hadn’t broken any fingers. Just nicked some of the skin on his hand on the bark. He looked at Alanna expectantly.

“Good. Now do that 25 more times on each hand. I’ll start preparing breakfast, I’m thinking your hands won’t be up to that today.”


End file.
